man opposite. His last words seemed to make a doubtful impression on my
uncle. He looked quickly across at me, but what he saw must have
relieved him.

"Ah, that wit!" he laughed. "It has been too long, George, too long since
I have tasted of it. It quite reminds me of the old days, George--with
the dances, and the races and the ladies. Ah, George, how they would
smile on you--and even today, I'll warrant! Ah, if I only had the receipt
that keeps you young."

"Indeed? You care to know it?" My father quite suddenly leaned forward
and tapped him on the shoulder. As though the abruptness of the gesture
startled him, my uncle drew hastily back. And still my father watched
him. Between them was passing something which I did not understand. The
silence in the room had become oppressive before my father spoke again.

"Lead a life of disrepute," he said gravely. "I cannot think of a better
cosmetic."

"George!" cried my uncle in quick remonstrance. "Remember your son is
with you?"

"And seems amply able to look out for himself--surprisingly able, Jason.
Have you not found it so?"

"Thank heaven, yes!" he laughed, and glanced hastily at me again.

My father's coat lapel was bothering him. He straightened it
thoughtfully, patted it gently into place, and then said: